


In the Aftermath

by HowWonderfullifeIs



Category: Smash (TV)
Genre: Little bit of angst, M/M, May/December Relationship, Rating May Change, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-26 06:45:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4994251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowWonderfullifeIs/pseuds/HowWonderfullifeIs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The opening night of Bombshell was an unparalleled success for some, a deep disappointment for others, and a deeply confusing occasion for Kyle Bishop.  He isn't sure that he's prepared to deal with the aftermath of his decisions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Over Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, folks! Just so everyone is aware, this fic is not entirely planned; this first chapter was written at the spur of the moment, and the following chapters are mere bubbles in my brain as of right now. I will try to update as speedily as possible, but time between chapters may vary. Additionally, I would like to clarify that Tom's use of the word "Kid" is not meant to suggest that Kyle is a minor, but rather to suggest Tom's view of their age difference. I hope that this will not offend anyone. With that said, please enjoy!

Even before Kyle opened his eyes he could feel the strange combinations of pleasure and pain that accompanied waking up in a lover’s bed. At the back of his head was the dull ache that came with a mild hangover, and he soon discovered that his mouth and throat were experiencing the effects of a night spent in drunken bliss as well, bone dry and thirsting for water. However, he could also recognize the warmth of an arm wrapped around his waist and the soft tickle of hair that wasn’t his against his cheek; this was enough to bring him to open his eyes as memories of the night before flooded his mind with a curious mixture of delight and guilt. Had he really just spent the night with one of his idols? A quick downward glance confirmed that he had, in fact, enjoyed the company of Tom Levitt, that he hadn’t dreamt it in a fevered, inebriated haze. On its own, this information was a delightful piece of news, but reality was beginning to drive the joy from him as regret settled in the pit of his stomach.

There was still the question of Blake. Certainly Kyle had enjoyed the time he had spent with him, but even on their best days together Blake still seemed to be a distraction, something he was using to fill his mind and keep him from thinking of his best friend as anything else. He had spent such a long time and so much energy avoiding this truth that to acknowledge it in this moment, lying next to someone else, made him feel suddenly ill. He had to escape this situation. His breathing became shallow for a moment as panic began to set in, and the shuddering fall of his chest stirred his bedmate ever so slightly. 

Tom shifted against Kyle’s chest, almost smirking in his sleep, and exhaled with heavy satisfaction. Kyle smiled as the intimacy of the moment filled him with… well, not relief, but something warm and familiar, something he had missed in his relationship with Blake. Turning his head slightly, he gently laid a kiss on Tom’s forehead, hoping to rouse him without making too much of a fuss. The situation was complicated enough without having to deal with a lover irritated by a rude awakening. Thankfully, Tom’s eyes fluttered open, and upon realizing that Kyle had stayed through the night, he grinned and planted a light kiss in the soft hollow between his collarbone and his throat.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” 

Raising himself onto his elbows to look around, Tom’s eyes fell on the clock. Nine AM. Shaking his head, Tom turned to the boy and said, “Don’t look now, but I guarantee you’re late if you were supposed to be in rehearsal today.”

Kyle sighed and muttered, “I’m scared to check my phone. I can think of at least five people who’d have my head if I showed up late.”

“How about we prolong your time among the living and get you some breakfast?”

Tom was already slipping out of bed and into a robe by the time Kyle responded with a half-hearted, “I could eat.” As he sat up, the throbbing at the back of his head intensified, and Tom noticed as Kyle winced upon standing up. The kid must have had one hell of a hangover, he thought, after all the wine and the scotch. Tom struggled to recall whether or not he’d gone so far as open the good bottle of brandy he’d been saving, but he certainly didn’t question the fact that if he had, it was worth it. It had been a good long while since he’d done something like this, taken a cute young fan to bed and really enjoyed himself. The best part was that it wasn’t just the sex, although that had been wonderful; no, the best part was that he had been able to really talk with this boy, even though he knew that he would forget most of it by morning. With all of the tension between him and Julia, with all of his worries for his show, and with his regrettable lack of a confidant, the fact that this kid had made him feel absolutely comfortable in baring his feelings meant a great deal. 

As he went about preparing breakfast at the counter, Tom couldn’t help throwing a brief, if slightly flirtatious, glance over his shoulder as Kyle finally emerged from the bedroom, yawning and stretching in such a way that Tom caught a tantalizing glance of a sliver of skin as the t-shirt that the kid had borrowed shifted with the rise of his arms. If Kyle hadn’t been so tired, Tom thought, he might have taken him back to bed right then, but the poor kid just didn’t seem up for it as he sank into a chair. In fact, he seemed downright mopey as Tom poured him a cup of coffee; he didn’t look up, didn’t say thank you, and otherwise seemed very different from the polite and eager boy he had been the night before.

Several minutes of silence went by as Tom finished frying eggs and buttering toast and placed one plate before his guest before taking his place opposite him. Kyle nodded slightly and very softly thanked him, but after several more minutes of quiet and of watching Kyle pick at his egg instead of eating it, Tom couldn’t take the worry and curiosity anymore.

“So, what’s the problem? ”

Kyle didn’t meet his eyes, but he sighed.

“There’s not really a problem, I was just thinking.”

“Oh, good. So, not to jump the gun or anything, but would you want to do this again sometime?”

Now Tom had Kyle’s attention. He chuckled a bit as the kid’s eyes widened, but the fact that Kyle did not smile made him stop short. Something seemed off about this whole situation, and he was beginning to worry that he had done something to scare the kid away.

“You really want to do this again?” Kyle asked. Tom gave him a nod and a slight smirk, hoping that whatever charm had worked the night before would work again. Apparently it didn’t, because Kyle inhaled as if he was seeking the right words, Tom assumed, to tell him it wasn’t going to work out. Just as he was about to resign himself to his fate of eternal celibacy, Kyle took his hand and murmured, “I have a confession to make.”

Tom raised an eyebrow. 

“Go on.”

“I… I don’t want to say that last night was a mistake, because you’re great, really, I’d do it again in a heartbeat, but the situation, well, it’s a little more complicated than that… Tom, I’ve got a boyfriend. I fucked up.”

Silence. Kyle had released Tom’s hand, and he could feel the blush rising in his cheeks. He wished the heat beneath his skin would quickly escalate and leave him nothing but a pile of ashes so that he could die of embarrassment rather than confront Tom’s suddenly stern face. For his part, Tom felt it only appropriate to give Kyle a moment to think on what he had done. He still felt a bizarre fondness for him, though, particularly at such a vulnerable moment; he doubted that the kid had been this honest with the boyfriend he had so conveniently forgotten to mention the night before. After a few moments of torturing Kyle with his silence, he asked, “So what do you want from me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said, ‘What do you want from me?’”

A pause.

“I want a chance to explain.”

With a wry smile, Tom muttered, “You’re lucky I’m taking the day off for this.”


	2. The Question of Why

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi folks! Thank you guys for all of the positive feedback on the first chapter. Sorry if this one is a teensy bit dialogue heavy, but these two have such distinctive voices that I can't help but focus on them. Enjoy!

“... So let me see if I’ve got everything; you want your straight best friend, you’re stringing some other boy along because why the hell not, and you slept with me thinking there’d be no repercussions? What the hell is wrong with you?”

This blunt response from Tom made Kyle wince a bit; he’d known even as he was speaking that his explanation for his behavior would not provoke a positive response, but to hear his actions condensed down, unobstructed by pretty words, left him feeling empty. He hadn’t really considered the possibility that he might be the selfish one in this scenario, so long had he buried himself under claims of unrequited love and sexual frustration. Was it really so selfish to want to be loved? Even if he’d acknowledged that his actions weren’t the most mature, he’d never been forced to examine them so closely before. He could see it clearly now, though, and he’d never once felt more like trash, particularly with Tom giving him the most withering stare he’d ever seen.

“Look,” Kyle sighed, “I just-”

“Don’t know what you want right now?”

Tom could not spend another second looking at the pained expression on Kyle’s face. He just could not afford to feel sorry for someone who had dragged him into the most juvenile shenanigans he’d ever been party too, but the longer he stared, the weaker his resolve became. This kid’s eyes were utterly impossible to ignore, wide and bright and absolutely helpless in the way that anyone who’s been confronted with flaws they didn’t know they had is helpless. Tom couldn’t help but give a sigh of frustrated concession as he rose from his chair to pace and run a restless hand through his still-ruffled hair; he had to keep moving to avoid softening too much under the sheer openness of Kyle’s face.  
Avoiding that helpless gaze proved impossible, however, and Tom shortly found himself propped on his elbows on the back of his chair, muttering, “Look, I get it, okay? I get not having it figured out. I get what it’s like, you’re not good at relationships at that age, nobody is.”

Kyle felt his shame and sadness slip away for a moment, replaced by a growing curiosity that strangely mirrored the sensation that had driven him to come home with Tom in the first place. Something about this man’s plainspoken intelligence made him feel safe, as though he would walk away wiser no matter what they talked about, and this analysis was certainly less painful than Tom’s initial reaction, so he hoped Tom would continue on this slightly less angry path of advice and understanding. However, the set of the older man’s brows told him that a few more scolding statements and outraged glares were in order as Tom continued.

“I’m not going to act like I was much better at your age. Heck, I can’t even act like I’m much better now. Relationships are hard, especially when you still don’t really know who you are, but you can’t go dragging people down with you when you mess up. Look, I spent some of my younger and dumber days as somebody’s piece of ass, but I’m too old for that now. I’m not here to fix your problems, and I don’t need you adding to mine. I’m this close to losing my best friend, I already lost a boyfriend, and I don’t need to get attached to somebody who hasn’t figured his shit out if I’m just going to lose him, too.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow, confusion now mingling with his curiosity. Attached? Even in his present predicament Kyle understood that attachment suggested the beginnings of a relationship, an honest-to-goodness series of dates with intent to gain intimate emotional knowledge. Attachment, for Kyle, did not suggest the aftermath of a one night stand. He’d honestly assumed that all Tom had seen in and wanted from him was a pretty, youthful face and a nice ass. The idea that someone so famous and so experienced could want anything else from him had never crossed his mind, especially in light of the fact that that seemed to be all anyone wanted from him, even Blake. People saw an innocence in his face that captured imaginations regardless of whether or not it was truly there; the men he attracted usually placed him on a pedestal, thinking him incorruptible, but never had that illusion been so thoroughly shattered in front of someone. Even so, there was still the question of Tom’s use of the word “attached,” in spite of all he had learned about Kyle. But perhaps, Kyle thought, Tom didn’t mean anything by it, just a case of unfortunate word choice. However, the confusion was eating at his brain and forcing his tongue to form ill-timed phrases such as, “Okay, I have to know, why me? There were plenty of guys at that party, you could have brought any of them home, so why me?”

Tom was taken aback by the forwardness of this question, but it hit him that he hadn’t really thought on the reasons for choosing Kyle. If he was completely honest with himself, a good deal of it was a selfish loneliness, the kind that only happens when everything is beginning to spiral out of one’s control and one can only hope to cling to something for some semblance of normalcy or validation. That and, of course, Kyle Bishop was young and handsome and eager to please. If one were going to engage in an entirely self-gratifying evening of meaningless sex, such qualities were perfect, but Tom had not anticipated being almost moved by this boy. Making love with him had become an exercise in receiving care, and talking with him was weirdly rewarding, if only in the sense that the kid forced him to think and think hard about his own choices of late.

“If you’re wanting an honest answer, I was lonely and you were cute. Sometimes that’s all it is, but sometimes you click with somebody, even if you weren’t planning on clicking. and I guess that’s what’s happening?” Tom’s frown quickly gave way to a downward glance and a shy smile as he said, “Guess you’re not the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on. You’re throwing me for a loop, kid.”

After a few moments, Kyle smiled as well. Even after everything he’d done, even if it was apparent that he wasn’t perfectly innocent, Tom still liked something about him. 

“So you’re saying what, exactly?”

With an exasperated little sigh, Tom said, “I’m saying come back when you’re single. Then we’ll talk.”

“Wow, okay, um… I’ll see what I can do? So, do you want me to clear out now, or can I finish breakfast?”

Tom gave him one last look of amused frustration before sitting back down and opening the newspaper. Kyle took that as his cue to devour what was left of his fried egg and toast before putting on his own clothes and making his way back to the apartment in an absolute haze. He could come back when he was single; that could be arranged. It was only a question of courage.


	3. Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's back, children! Feedback is bliss, and I apologize if this one is a little bleak.

Silence had long been Kyle’s survival tactic of choice; it had spared him having to really come out to his parents and had prevented him from saying anything romantically incriminating to Jimmy through the long years of loving him. Its usefulness, however, was beginning to prove more and more inconsequential in the face of its increasingly problematic consequences; despite Kyle’s love of the written word, he had so little experience with employing his spoken words in an effective manner that silence, once his ally, had become utterly crippling.

As soon as Kyle had returned to his own apartment, he immediately called Blake with every intention of telling him everything that had happened and setting him free. Alas for good intentions, confession was forcibly morphed into invitation on Blake’s insistence that the call could not be longer than five minutes. By seven PM, Blake was perched on the edge of Kyle’s bed, happily digging into the pineapple pizza Kyle had ordered as a form of preemptive comfort for the man he thought was his soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. He was more than happy to update Kyle on what he had missed at rehearsal, and equally happy not to ask Kyle where he had been the previous night; in short, he was so utterly benign and perfectly charming in this moment that Kyle felt his heart drop to his stomach at the idea of hurting this man. Silence had returned in the form of indecision. 

Almost without realizing how he arrived there, Kyle found himself sitting against his headboard with Blake’s head resting on his shoulder, watching some new show that Blake had been prattling on about while they had both polished off the pizza. Kyle could not for the life of him process any of this information. Silence was often accompanied by internalized panic, and by now both were firmly in control of his mind. The only real thing of which he was remotely aware was the fact that he did not want to be in this situation, but that as long as Blake was present and pleasant, there was no possibility of escape in the near future. In his silence, he had trapped himself. The daydream that had filled his day, the one that saw him giddily showing up at Tom’s door and tumbling back into Tom’s bed that very night and spending endless days and nights sharing music and stories and body heat with this idol, was rapidly slipping through the ever widening cracks in his brain.

After the third or fourth episode, Blake’s eyelids began to flutter and his breathing began to slow. Sleep soon overtook him, and Kyle, finally somewhat able to process the situation at hand, gently guided him into a more comfortable position. This was Kyle’s opportunity to step away and reevaluate everything. He needed clarity, he needed sanity, he needed someone to talk to about this predicament of his own making. The silence had to be broken. Delicately shutting the door behind him, Kyle made his way to Jimmy’s bedroom and gave a timid knock. Of all people, Jimmy had to understand.

Jimmy had not yet fallen asleep; a day during which he did not see Kyle was a day of worry, and consequently, he found he had difficulty sleeping when he worried over his friend. When the knock came, he initially startled, but he knew there was only one possible source, and he was relieved.

“Hello, sunshine.”

Kyle gave him a quavering, almost queasy smile as he made his way to the edge of Jimmy’s bed, and instantly Jimmy felt his worry return.

“So, where’d you disappear to last night?” he asked. Kyle’s face reddened instantly, and Jimmy could not help but notice that Kyle appeared to be attempting to make himself smaller, hunching his shoulders and crossing his arms as if to hold himself together. This, Jimmy knew, was the posture of someone who has a secret to keep but has no ability to keep it. Several seconds of complete silence followed, though Kyle’s lips tried their very best to form the right words to explain the situation. Jimmy was astounded; it had been a long time since Kyle had been unable to share something with him.

“Hey, wherever you were, it’s fine, you know that whatever it is you think you did wrong, I can almost guarantee I’ve done a lot worse. Talk to me.”

And suddenly, Kyle was sobbing, growing more hysterical as his story poured out and rendering it necessary for Jimmy to listen extremely closely in order to understand him through his tears.

“I slept with Tom Levitt! I slept with Tom Levitt, and now Blake is here and he’s in my room and I couldn’t do it, Jimmy, I tried to tell him but I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell him the truth.”

This was information that Jimmy did not quite know what to do with; he had never, in the years that he had known Kyle, pegged him for the sort who would even consider cheating on somebody, but he couldn’t necessarily blame Kyle, either. To a hopeless romantic like Kyle, Jimmy imagined, Blake was pleasant, but exceedingly boring. For as perfectly benign as he was, Blake lacked the addictive, creative spark that had always been Kyle’s romantic weakness. Tom Levitt had it in spades. With such conflicting ideas flooding his brain, all Jimmy could think to do was to sit down next to the weeping man and allow him to bury his face in Jimmy’s shirt, leaving wet patches that Jimmy didn’t even notice. Kyle was instantly comforted by this physical contact, but he was still shaking and gasping for breath as Jimmy rubbed slow circles on his back. 

This was as close to inconsolable as Kyle had ever been. It was a role reversal that neither man understood, but Jimmy was more than willing to help, and Kyle was realizing more and more that he was no longer the man he thought he was. He was helpless in the face of wave after wave of regret and self-loathing. Eventually, with tears still flowing, he pulled away, staring at Jimmy with puffy, exhausted eyes.

“I don’t know what’s happened to me, Jimmy. When did I turn into such a shit show?”

Jimmy furrowed his brow, muttering, “You’ve never been a shit show, you’re sure as hell not one now. Why would you think that?”

Kyle swallowed another sob and wiped at his eyes with the hem of his sleeve.

“I started the fight. You wouldn’t have gotten kicked out if I hadn’t confronted Adam. And then I got drunk and slept with someone who was definitely not mine to sleep with, and I didn’t even have the decency to tell my boyfriend what I’d done. I think it’s safe to say I’m not the person I used to be. I was better than this. At least, I think I was better than this.”

He paused and went to blow his nose on his sleeve, but Jimmy, with a face of momentary disgust, held Kyle’s arm at bay and reached for a clean, but sufficiently ratty, sweatshirt to serve as a makeshift handkerchief. With the weakest smile, Kyle accepted the gesture and continued.

“Why can’t I speak up when I need to?”

Jimmy, despite knowing full well that it was not an appropriate time to do so, couldn’t help but quip, “I mean, I’ve heard that silence is golden.”

And in that moment, Kyle knew that Jimmy should not have been trusted with this. He had broken his silence to the wrong person, and he did not dare ask for solutions from someone who so clearly did not understand the gravity of the situation. Silence fell again, even as Jimmy continued to hold him and allowed him to cry.


End file.
